


Nightmare's Best

by missara



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:09:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missara/pseuds/missara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen has a nightmare and the Inquisitor is there to comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmare's Best

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of my Inquisitor and Cullen.  
> The Inquisitor here is also the Inquisitor in my serial chapter also found under my works.

Bloodshot eyes, tear-stained cheeks and all he could see was her. Dark, velvety blood pooled from her, and he struggled again, to no avail. The chains were too tight, bound to the floor and all he could was watch as they twisted the lyrium in her veins, _burned it._ He heard her scream, primitive, and guttural and he flinched in response, struggling against the chains, trying to bring himself closer to her. Anything to ease her pain, he thought.

He shouted, pleaded, for them to stop. Instead, they laughed in his face, spat at him, and he cursed, swearing to the Maker that when these chains fell from his wrists, they would have something to fear.

Alas, he couldn’t do anything. All he could do was watch, and feel the ache in his stomach grow and grow until he couldn’t even look. Biting his lip, he tore his head away, eyes averting to anywhere but where she lay. Never had he felt so helpless watching the woman he loved writhe in agonizing pain as they tortured her, stripped her of who she was until was she nothing but a blubbering fool. “You can kill me, torture me! But for the love of the Maker, please don’t hurt her anymore!”

 He heard her strangled cry, and immediately found her amber eyes, swallowing back another growl. His brows lowered in concern, a small pained smile forcing its way through. “It’s okay, Cullen.” They looked from her to him, laughing hysterically at him, the lover boy trying to exchange his life for hers. As if it would matter, they thought. You are nothing compared to her, they mocked in his mind, she has the mark, you are just _the commander_.  She smiled weakly at him, amber eyes glittering as a single tear fell from her face, and mouthed “I love you,” and with one last gasp, her eyelids fluttered closed and her cheeks drained of all color.

“Maker no, no, no,” he muttered, raising his hands to his face, only to be hindered by the shackles. He screamed painfully, mourning her, wanting to avenge her. With whatever strength he had, he used his templar powers and broke free of the chains, rushing to her side, falling to his knees, her head on his lap. “Take me instead,” he begged, lips brushing past her cheek, caressing her red locks of hair, mumbling incoherently. 

A sob wracked his body as he held her close, hoping that his cries and sweet nothings would bring her back. Then, they came, prying him from her body, laughing over what they planned to do to him, “lover boy”. He didn’t care. His mind was too busy wrapped around the idea that she was dead in his arms and as they dragged him away from her, he cried out to her, struggling to break free from the Seekers, but he was too weak.

He was too weak and because of that weakness, he had let both of them down. He fought back, determined to return to her body, clutching the remnants of her life, whatever he could cling to.

* * *

“Cullen! Cullen!” He bolted upright, almost smacking his head on the headboard if it weren’t for the firm, but gentle hand on his chest, soothing him. His eyes flickered open, darting about the room until they fell on her.

“Oh Maker,” he whispered, relieved, his lips forming into a loose smile as his hands cupped his lovers face, nearing her until their foreheads were touching. She smiled in return, laughing softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck, lightly brushing her lips on his.

Still smiling, she mumbled, hot breath tickling his skin, “Cullen. What’s wrong?” She pulled away from him, only leaving her bare, sweaty legs tangled with his, and propped herself up on the bed, and he sighed, forlorn and full of lovesickness.

“Nothing you needn’t worry yourself about,” he replied, pulling her naked body to his, kissing her tenderly, with a hunger that surprised even him. With a shaky breath, he pulled away slightly staring at her, “I have the woman I love in my arms, and she’s here. Alive, breathing,” he shakily pushed aside a stray lock of her thick, orange hair.

She cocked her head, placing a firm hand on his chest. “What are you talking about?” She asked, laughing, a hint of nervousness echoing in her voice. A look of understanding crossed over her face as she nodded her head slightly, murmuring in acknowledgement. “You had a nightmare.”

He smiled sheepishly, kissing her forehead. “I suppose I did.” With deftness he had never thought a mage would have possessed, she pushed him back on the bed and plopped herself on top, straddling him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked, tracing the muscles on his chest, humming in approval.

“It was just a nightmare…” he said, sneaking his hands out of her grasp until he could wrap them around her hips, and tugged her frame towards him. “You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

“Yes,” she slipped away, using her dexterity to avoid his wanting hands, “I have to go. We were supposed to be headed for Crestwood by now.”

He groaned, “Maker. I don’t think they’ll miss the Inquisitor and the Commander too much for one day of relaxation.” He pulled her back towards him, gripping her firmly against him as she squirmed in his arms, giggling. “I think you’ve deserved it.”

With a sigh of defeat, she turned over on her side to face him, “You are a bad influence.”

“Oh, I’m the worst.” He remarked, showering her face with kisses, smiling as he held in her arms. This is real, he reminded himself. She is real, and she loves you.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” She inquired, shying her face away from his affection.

“I can’t just lavish you with attention?” He asked, pretending to have his ego bruised as he raised a hand in fake astonishment.

“Oh, no the lavishing is perfectly fine.” She said, smirking. “It’ just… you were yelling.” He mouthed an ‘oh’ realizing that he would have to tell her the truth.

“They took you from me- killed you.” He said, voice breaking as the realization of how real it seemed, even now. “And, Andraste help me, there was nothing I could do.” He turned away from her, not wanting her to see him teary-eyed.

“Oh, Cullen,” she whispered, snuggling up to his bare chest, taking his hand in hers and gripping it tightly. “That hasn’t happened.” She paused, almost as if she was contemplating what to say. “It won’t happen. I won’t let what happened to you at Kinloch Hold repeat itself.” He could feel her smile against his chest, and breathed in deeply. “I promise.”

He turned to face her, cupping her face in his hands and pulled her into a deep kiss, echoing over and over how much he adored her.


End file.
